Separation of Power (46 page)

“On my mark, turn on your headlights. Three . . . two . . . one . . . mark.”

All three drivers snatched their night-vision goggles from their faces and turned on their headlights. It was crucial that they do this at the same time. If done while wearing the goggles it would cause temporary blindness. With the road now illuminated the team relaxed just a notch. Major Berg’s voice came over the team’s secure radios again and said, “Nice work, guys. Twenty minutes to Baghdad and then the real fun starts.”

H
ANK
C
LARK HAD
his white shirtsleeves rolled up. His elbows were placed on his desk and his fingers kneaded his temples. He wished he were in his hide at the Capitol, but he would have never made it over there without being accosted by the media. As it was, his outer office was a complete zoo. There were at least three reporters with TV crews in tow demanding to speak to him, and there were another five or so print reporters just waiting for the chance to shove their damned Dictaphones in his face.

He should have been happy with the way things had gone, but something was bothering him. Clark couldn’t figure out what he was missing, but he had the feeling that something was afoot. Kennedy’s testimony, or lack thereof, had been a surprise, but nowhere as big a surprise as the FBI raiding Rudin’s office and house. Clark hoped Steveken had the sense to make himself scarce. Rudin would not cooperate
with the FBI, he hated them too much, but if the charges were real Rudin might give Steveken and Brown up to save his own skin. And then there was the president telling him that for his own good he should go easy on Kennedy. Then Kennedy shows up today and starts talking about national security. Something was going on, but he couldn’t figure out what.

There was a sudden loud ruckus in the outer office. Clark was about to get up to investigate, when his door flew open and Rudin barged in. The bone-thin congressman slammed the door closed and stormed across the room gesturing wildly with his hands. “I knew you wouldn’t answer your damn phone, so I came over here. What in the hell happened?”

Clark took a deep breath and stifled the urge to tell Rudin to shut up. “What did you want me to do, Albert?”

“I wanted you to tear her head off.”

“I don’t think that would have played too well on TV.”

Rudin stopped in front of Clark’s desk. “I don’t care how it would have played, Hank. The damn bitch admitted that she advised the president to raid my house. My fucking house!”

“I thought Jetland did just fine.”

“Have you lost your mind? He came off looking like a pompous overbearing ass.”

Clark was tempted to ask Rudin if he’d watched any tapes of himself lately, but instead said, “And that’s exactly what I would have looked like if I’d gone after her.”

Rudin’s disagreement was apparent on his twisted face. “You should have never let her walk out like that. I don’t get it.” He threw his arms up in the air. “I did my part yesterday, and you just sat there.”

“Easy, Albert.” Clark pointed to a chair and said, “Take a seat. You’re way too worked up. Kennedy’s done.” The senator wasn’t so sure, but he recognized the need to say something to mollify Rudin.

“Oh, there’s no question about that. The president better start looking for a new nominee.” Rudin sat. “You know, before all this started I would have been satisfied to just end her career, but not now.” The bags of loose skin under his jaw jiggled as he shook his head. “I want her in jail.”

“I don’t blame you,” Clark lied. “If she’d advised the president to raid my house and office I’d be furious.”

“Does that mean you’re going to let me hold hearings?”

Clark smiled slyly. “I think there’ll be more than enough for both our committees to handle.”

The two men took a moment to gloat over the destruction of Kennedy. It was cut short by the voice of Clark’s personal secretary emanating from the phone.

“Senator, President Hayes is holding on line one.”

Clark’s eyes opened wide in an exaggerated show of surprise. “Thank you, Debbie. I’ll grab it in a second.” Looking at Rudin he asked, “What do you think this is about?”

Rudin clapped his hands together and gleefully announced, “He’s calling to withdraw her nomination. What else?”

Clark thought he was right. With Kennedy out of the way he could breathe a sigh of relief and help select Brown as the next nominee. Beyond that, he would still be able to hold hearings. He could explain to the president that it was needed to balance out what would undoubtedly be a rabid persecution of Kennedy by Rudin and the House Intelligence Committee.

Finally he reached out and grabbed the handset. “Mr. President.”

“Hank, I don’t have much time so I’m going to make this real quick. In about ten minutes we’re going to start bombing Iraq. I’ve already informed the leaders of both houses. I’ve also signed a Presidential Finding authorizing lethal force for U.S. Special Forces personnel who are in the area. I can’t get into any specifics right now, but we’re trying to put together a briefing for later tonight. Please do me a favor and keep this under your hat until the story breaks.”

“Absolutely, Mr. President.”

“Thanks, Hank. I’ll be in touch.”

The line went dead and Clark slowly hung up the phone.

Rudin was still gloating. “What did he say? Did he pull her nomination?”

It took Clark a moment to answer. “No. He called to inform me that we’re ten minutes away from bombing Baghdad.”

“What?” screamed Rudin. He jumped out of his chair. “There’s no way. He can’t . . . I can’t believe he’s—”

“He can and he is,” said Clark firmly as his mind raced to figure out what was going on.

“It’s
Wag the Dog.
It’s all a diversion to get the media to ignore Kennedy.”

The congressman’s words gave Clark pause. He thought about it for a moment as Rudin paced back and forth in front of his desk spewing obscenities. Clark knew Robert Hayes pretty well, and he didn’t take him for the type to put soldiers and airmen into harm’s way just to divert attention from a political crisis, but the presidency did funny things to people’s morals. Looking at the red-faced Rudin, Clark decided to bait him a bit. “Do you really think he’d do that?”

“You’re damn right he would! He’d sell my fucking party down the river to save his own ass!” Rudin stopped and jabbed his thumb into his chest. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him do it. I’m going to go tell every reporter who’ll listen that this is a farce!”

“You do what you need to do, Albert, but you’re going to wait until the bombs start falling before you say a word.”

R
app had given the members of the Delta team one piece of serious advice. They were true professionals, men who did not take well to outsiders telling them what to do, so he was careful how he said it, but he was firm. He told them, “Be bold, be arrogant, and if anybody gets in the way, threaten to kill them.” This was the way of Uday Hussein. He had learned it from his father, and young Uday had bested him. Saddam had no heart, but it seemed at least that there was some logic to his use of force. It was used to rule, to keep his subjects cowering. If the people cowered they couldn’t look up long enough to strike back. Uday, on the other hand, seemed to take perverse pleasure in maiming and killing innocent people in the most random of ways.

Saddam tolerated Uday’s brutal behavior for three reasons. The first was that Saddam himself was no saint, the second was that Uday was his son and the third was that Uday’s sadistic behavior served a purpose. It helped to spread fear among even Saddam’s most senior people. The message was clear, don’t screw up or you’ll end up as Uday’s evening entertainment.

The stories were well-known throughout Iraq and in the western intelligence agencies. In 1995 Saddam’s two sons-in-law, Hussein Kamel and Saddam Kamel, defected to Jordan with Saddam’s daughters. After a short period Saddam convinced them to come back to Baghdad. He promised them that he had forgiven them, and that the important thing was that they were family. Upon their return to Baghdad, Uday convinced his father that they needed to make an example of them. Saddam was swayed by his son. Uday then proceeded to torture them for hours on end, kill them, and then as a final message to all the people of Iraq, he burned their houses to the ground. He did it all in front of his sisters, who were allowed to live.

Then there was the story of a friend who had dared to criticize the son of Saddam. Uday had a string tied around the man’s penis and then forced three bottles of gin down his throat. The man died an excruciating death. Just a year earlier his father had sent one of his top advisors to talk to Uday about certain affairs of state. Uday felt the man was too condescending, so he had his testicles cut off and fed to his dogs. The man was allowed to live as a reminder to all that Uday was to be treated with absolute respect. Rapp had told all these stories and more to the Delta boys so they could understand the real fear that Uday Hussein strikes into the hearts of all Iraqis. It was this fear that they were depending on to get them into the facility.

The cars had proceeded without difficulty up Route 144. The six-lane highway was very modern and relatively quiet as the clock approached 11:00
P.M
.
The few cars and trucks that they encountered moved quickly out of the way as the caravan of three white Mercedes sedans rolled past at 75 mph. When they reached the city limits they turned onto the Abu Ghurayb Expressway, another six-lane thoroughfare that would carry them into the heart of Baghdad and right through the very teeth of the enemy. On the left was the sprawling Abu Ghurayb munitions factory and on the right was the main barracks for the Republican Guard, over ten thousand shock troops ready to put down any revolt launched against Saddam.

Suddenly Rapp noticed the lead car begin to slow a bit. Looking ahead he saw a police cruiser in the middle lane. He spoke decisively over the team’s comnet. “Don’t slow down. There isn’t a cop in this country who’d pull over one of these caravans. Speed right past him.”

The Mercedes all had deeply tinted windows so it was impossible to see in. As they passed the police cruiser Rapp looked over at the officer. Just as he thought, the man didn’t dare to even glance at the speeding luxury sedans.

The computer mapping in the car was very nice. The system was uplinked to the Global Positioning System and showed them their exact location on a map of the city. Their course to the hospital was also clearly marked in green. As an extra precaution each member had also memorized the location of the hospital and the streets leading to and from it.

The lead car hit its right turn signal and began to move over. Their exit for the hospital was coming
up. As they reached the top of the ramp, and prepared to turn onto Shari’ Arba’at, Rapp saw a flash off in the distance. For a split second he thought it was lightning, but it was quickly followed by three more. The strikes were not coming from the sky, they were erupting from the ground. Suddenly fiery streaks appeared in the night sky, and Rapp realized they were cruise missiles. It was an amazing sight, like a low-level meteor storm. Bright flashes began popping to the south of them, each one moving closer until they could hear the explosions. The drivers kept moving toward the hospital. When they reached Shari’ Al Mansur they took a left and sped down the road. Several blocks later they passed the Russian embassy and had to race around cars that were stopped in the middle of the road.

At that exact moment, a block in front of them, a blur of fire-breathing cruise missiles screamed overhead less than a hundred feet off the ground. The cars shook from the noise, but continued on even faster. The hospital was only blocks away. Over the comnet Rapp said, “Major, did you see the crowd gathering in front of the Russian embassy?”

“Affirmative.”

“The locals know it’s safe to go there during an air raid. The street might be blocked by the time we get out of here.”

“Roger, we’ll go with the secondary route. Did everybody get that? On the way out we’re switching to the secondary route.”

The drivers all confirmed that they’d received the order and the group pressed on. The explosions
started occurring closer by the second and Rapp briefly wondered if they’d all lost their minds to volunteer for this operation. He’d specifically asked that the bombing start minutes after they’d arrived at the hospital, not before. His greatest fear was that the underground facility would go through a standard lockdown procedure when the bombing started.

They made one last turn, all three vehicles skidding around the corner. The side entrance to the hospital was up ahead on the left and the street was empty. Rapp didn’t know if this was a good sign or a bad one. The cars skidded to a halt and twelve doors instantly flew open. Each man had a job. In the backseat of the first and third vehicles Delta operators popped up through the sunroofs and set up their Heckler & Koch 7.62-mm machine guns on tripods. The heavy weapons would eviscerate anything short of an armored personnel carrier, and if one of those or, God forbid, a tank showed up, they had three LAW 80 antitank guided missiles. The three drivers stood next to their vehicles, leaving the engines running. Each carried an M4A1 carbine with an advanced combat optical gun sight, and an M203 40-mm grenade launcher affixed under the barrel grip. The driver from the middle car would cover the door after the entry team went in.

The remaining seven Delta operators and Rapp moved quickly toward the door. Each man with the exception of Rapp carried a Heckler & Koch MP10 suppressed submachine gun. The weapons were silent 9-mm close-quarter killing machines. They were the best weapon available for the job, and if not for Rapp,
they would have been left behind. The original plan had been to use AK-74s and AKSUs, the standard weapons of the Special Republican Guard, but Rapp had intervened, explaining that Uday was a gun nut and the men on his personal detail carried the best weapons money could buy.